The Shelf

by Helly Acton

  ‘Amy, please go to the Therapy Room. Dr Hicks is waiting for you.’

  ‘Amy!’ says Dr Hicks, looking smarter than usual in a tweed suit. ‘Please come in, this will only take five minutes.’

  Amy absorbs the bittersweet feel of the room as she looks around it one last time.

  ‘I have something for you.’ Dr Hicks turns round, holding a certificate.

  ‘What’s this?’ Amy asks as she takes it.

  ‘It’s a certificate to say that you’ve passed. It doesn’t mean you’re The Keeper, but to have got this far means that you’ve done something right. It’s an official acknowledgement and celebration of your participation and development on the show.’

  ‘Will Flick get one?’ she asks.

  ‘Of course,’ he says, smiling. ‘I think she’s on a good path, too.’

  ‘Thank you, Doctor.’ She wonders what they’ve spoken about in their sessions, and what he’s advised Flick to do about her relationship. ‘If it hadn’t been for you, I’m not sure I would have survived. I’m sure – in fact, I know – that we all feel the same way.’

  ‘Nonsense. You were the one who figured out the path on your own. I knew you would. Remember, we’re all stronger than we think we are. Are you still planning your Thailand adventure?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ She smiles, staring at her certificate.

  ‘Who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone like-minded there.’

  ‘I hope not.’ She looks up. ‘I’ve got far too much me time to enjoy.’

  Forty

  Amy stands at the side of the podium, beaming at her mum and dad, who are sitting at the back of the VIP section in the garden. She wants to laugh when she sees her mum giving Jamie an exaggerated side-eye from across the garden as he hands out business cards to the audience.

  ‘What the bloody hell is that complete arse doing here?’ her mum said earlier, when Jamie approached her. When he realised who she was, he’d made a last-minute dash behind a garden gnome.

  Joining them in the audience are some familiar faces, who Amy’s greeted like long-lost friends. Amy’s only known Jackie, Gemma and Hattie for a few weeks, but it feels like forever. Lauren is playing a set in Ibiza, and Kathy can’t make it. She’s taken herself on holiday to an over-fifties singles club in Greece to celebrate – she and Jeremy have finally agreed to sell the house and split the proceeds.

  ‘Amy!’ Jackie runs up to speak to her. She can’t get her words out fast enough. ‘You cannot believe how much support we have out there. How much support you have. We’ve started something important, I think. Something we can be really proud of. Apparently, young female viewers have begun to see being single as a positive, something to strive for. They’re calling being single #shelflife, ha! It’s exactly what we were hoping for. I’m so excited, I really want to do something with this. Maybe some kind of online community. You’re a writer. Are you in?’

  ‘One hundred per cent,’ Amy replies.

  As they take their seats at the front, the three ex-housemates start whispering and laughing like schoolgirls.

  ‘Stop it, you three! You’re making me feel nervous!’ Amy shout-whispers to them.

  ‘Imagine how they’re making me feel,’ Flick mutters, standing next to her. ‘I’m assuming they aren’t crossing their fingers for me to win. They’re probably laughing at me.’

  ‘No, they aren’t. I promise. I don’t think they know who they want to win. I actually think they’re laughing because Jackie just pretended to blow her nose on Jamie’s business card and wipe it on Gemma’s dress.’

  Simon is sitting in the corner at the back of the garden, away from everyone else. When Amy caught his eye earlier, he looked the other way. It annoyed her, because she wanted to stare him out. She’d seen Flick greet him as he took his seat, with an unfeeling kiss and an uncomfortable silence. Whether their relationship will survive this experience looks suddenly questionable. Hopefully not, if Flick meant what she said a few moments ago.

  ‘Look at him, Amy. Sitting there like he hasn’t a care in the world. Like he expects me to stop being silly, come home and put the supper on,’ she whispers.

  ‘Flick, please step up to the podium and tell us why you should be The Keeper.’

  Amy breathes out, relieved she doesn’t have to go first.

  Flick steps up onto the stage, places her notepad in front of her and looks around the walled garden. She seems ice-cool, but when she speaks it’s not with the confidence she had when she first arrived. There’s a humility to her that Amy hasn’t noticed before.

  ‘I came on The Shelf to prove that I’m a keeper. And I believe that I’ve accomplished that goal. I’ve committed to every challenge. I’ve come top in almost every task. I have shown that I am willing and able to give my all to a relationship, while putting aside the things I care about. If that was the purpose of The Shelf, I feel it’s only fair that I win. But even if I don’t win the public vote, I know in my heart that I entered the house a keeper and I will be leaving a keeper.

  ‘Not once did I compromise my ideals. When I walked through the front door a few weeks ago, it felt like I was entering a lion’s den. I knew I wouldn’t be the most popular person among my new housemates, but I took the risk and I didn’t cave under pressure. I was here to prove I was marriage material, and I wouldn’t let anything or anyone change me.

  ‘Amy is a good person, who I’ve come to love in the few weeks I have known her. Despite our differences, she has shown understanding, kindness and compassion where others have not. But she isn’t a keeper by the show’s standards. If you crown her The Keeper, you’ll be sending the wrong message to me and to the millions of housewives around the world who, just like me, work tirelessly to support their families. The millions of housewives who are often made to feel like lesser females because of their choices, and in spite of the sacrifices they have made.

  ‘To deny me the crown would be wrong.’

  She pauses, and then looks up at Simon.

  ‘As wrong as it would be for you, Simon, to deny me what you promised four years ago. Marriage. A family. My name on our mortgage. A home that’s filled with more than just you, me and your vintage red wine collection. I proved to you years ago that I would make the perfect wife and mother. I have waited on you hand and foot. I have attended to your every need while ignoring my own. All I ask is that you show some appreciation for what I left behind.

  ‘And all I ask of you right now, right this second, Simon, is that you tell me, with everyone watching: are you going to marry me? Are you going to give me children, like you promised you would? It’s a yes or no answer.’

  YESSS! Flick!

  Amy eyeballs a red-faced Simon, sitting at the back of the garden, glaring at Flick with steely eyes.

  ‘Felicity, we will talk about this later.’

  ‘Yes or no, Simon,’ she says, remaining cool. ‘You’ve had four years to think about it. You are not going to steal any more of my time.’

  He becomes flustered as he looks at everyone staring at him.

  ‘For God’s sake, stop being so hysterical. This isn’t like you. What are you doing?’

  Flick smiles at him and then looks down at her notes. She drops one of the notes on the floor, where Amy can see the title.

  If He Says Yes

  ‘Ladies, gentlemen and viewers, I proved years ago that I was marriage material to one person. But now the whole world can see that I am, even if the one person I wanted to see, can’t. As I said at the start of this speech, I entered the house a keeper, and I will be leaving a keeper. I know that I could be a good wife and a great mother one day. And I’m delighted to say that applications are open for the position of potential partner, for those who are kind, fair and keep their promises.’

  The crowd laugh and clap. Simon looks furious as Flick takes a seat at the front of the studio audience, next to Jackie, not at the back in the seat he’s kept free.

  ‘Congratulations, Flick,’ shouts Adam. ‘What a sta
tement! You’ll need a PA to handle all those applications! Give it up for Flick, everyone. Simon, mate, what can we say? You had your chance!’

  The audience laugh again, as Simon stands up and leaves the garden, glaring behind him as he goes.

  Amy’s heart is thumping as she steps up to the podium, looking at the floor.

  She takes a deep breath, looks at her first line and begins.

  ‘This is a letter to my sixteen-year-old self. And it goes something a little like this.’

  Dear Amy,

  I have bad news. When you’re thirty-two, you won’t be married to Leonardo DiCaprio and living in his mansion in LA. In fact, you won’t be married at all. But there’s no need to panic. You will be in a loving and committed relationship with someone who will never leave your side. Someone who has your best interests at heart.

  You.

  You alone are enough. If or when you are ready, you will open your heart and let someone inside who’s the perfect fit.

  You don’t need a man to complete you.

  You are whole already.

  You are enough.

  Be kind to yourself. Some of the hardest conversations you have will take place in your own head. Be kind to other people, even the ones who aren’t kind back. You don’t know what they’ve been through. Choose your words carefully. Words can be weapons of mass destruction and leave lifelong scars. Don’t let yourself down.

  Amy, I have more bad news. Your girl band Take Two will never perform at Wembley, despite all that practice. But you will be famous one day. You will have your own stage to spread important messages to the sixteen-year-olds who are watching. Like I said, choose your words carefully.

  You are going to make some terrible choices in men. I mean, really awful. But you have to go through them all to get to where you need to be. Although I do wish I could stop you from grabbing that drink with Steve. That’s eight months of pretending to like Mexican food and heavy metal you’ll never get back.

  Be grateful for every opportunity you’ve had. Remember to thank your mum and dad for everything they’ve done to get you to where you’re going. Aspire to be like them, but in your own unique way. Your identity is yours. Protect it.

  Lastly, stop it. I can see what you’re doing, pinching your hip fat in the hallway mirror after school and sucking your cheeks in to look like Kate Moss. Stop comparing yourself to supermodels. They were born their way; you were born yours. Be happy in your beautiful skin. Worry about the size of your heart, not the size of your slice. Eat the bloody cake.

  With love,

  You

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ she says, shuffling her papers. ‘Flick is right. She’s The Keeper, not me, according to the show’s definition of the word. I didn’t follow all the rules in every challenge, and I’m not top of the class. I’m delighted to be single, and I’m looking forward to spending more time on my own. The Shelf hasn’t made me ready for someone else – The Shelf has made me ready for me. Right now, I’m not capable of giving my all to someone else. Right now, I’m not prepared to sacrifice what makes me happy.

  ‘Crown or no crown, I pledge to be kind to myself, look after myself and protect my own interests. I’ll never forget about those interests or cast them aside again. And this letter will be a ready reminder that, from this day forward, I am my own keeper. And to all the young girls who are watching the show, you will have your hearts broken one day. There’s no avoiding it. But, like me, you are strong and you are worthy of everything in life you want to have. Be your own keeper. Each and every one of you.’

  Amy jumps off the stage as the show breaks for the ads. She rushes to her parents, hugging them for a solid three minutes while the audience look on.

  ‘Babes, that was amazing!’ Gemma calls from the front row.

  She needs to talk to someone.

  When Jamie sees Amy making a beeline for him, he opens his arms.

  ‘Piglet! Great tux. Gone totally off men, have you?’ He laughs. ‘Only kidding.’

  ‘Jamie, why are you here?’

  ‘I wouldn’t miss this for the world. I got a pass in the mail. Thought it would be another good opportunity to plug the business. Why? You don’t have a problem with me being here, do you? I thought we were friends?’

  ‘I don’t have a problem with you being here. In fact, I’m glad you’re here, as I have a few things I want to say, and now I don’t have to contact you out there.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad you’ve decided to take some time to figure things out for yourself. Although I’m a little disappointed I didn’t get a mention in the speech. Where’s my thanks for helping you find your happiness?’

  ‘I’m not here to thank you. I’m here to forgive you.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For everything. How you’ve treated me for the last eighteen months. How you’ve made me feel like a visitor in your home. How you’ve made me feel fat when I was fine. How you made me feel needy when it was only because your mixed messages were confusing me. They would have confused anyone. How you made me look and feel like I was the crazy ex-girlfriend, putting pressure on you to tie the knot when that wasn’t the case at all.

  ‘How you played the victim, when I was the one getting hurt. How you spoke to me like we had a future, then shut me down when I tried to talk about it seriously that one time. I’m forgiving you not because I’m weak, but because I’m strong. By forgiving you, I can cut our ties, let you go and move on. From you, our relationship and this entire experience. So no, I’m not here to thank you, Jamie. I’m here to forgive you. So. I forgive you.’

  He stares at her for a few seconds with his mouth hanging open.

  ‘I …’ He pauses to run his fingers through his hair and clear his throat. ‘Cool. OK. Nice one. So, should we, like, catch up after …?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so, Jamie. Let’s just leave it at this, shall we?’ She smiles. ‘Good luck with everything.’

  ‘Yeah, you too Pi— I mean, Amy. You too, Amy.’

  ‘Amy and Flick, please return to the stage. Audience, please take your seats.’

  This is it, thinks Amy, taking a deep breath in as she walks towards the front. She hugs her mum and dad again and steps up to the stage.

  The garden lights switch off and they’re left in the glow of the TV screen. All of a sudden, the crowd on the screen go wild when they see Adam Andrews walk on stage in rhinestone-covered cowboy boots. He waves to the crowd as he walks up and down the runway, occasionally bending over to high-five them as he passes. The theme tune has never been louder, but Amy can hear her heart beating in her chest and her breath getting shorter with each inhale.

  Just breathe. It’s over.

  Reaching the end of the stage, Adam turns.

  ‘Hello, everyone! And welcome to The Shelf’s Grand Finale, where we get to find out who you’ve crowned The Keeper!’

  The crowd roar.

  ‘My goodness, it’s been an eventful month, hasn’t it, everyone? We’ve had ups, downs, U-turns and some pretty massive car crashes along the way. How about we take a look at some of the best bits?’

  The screen in the garden starts to play footage from the last month.

  They watch the housemates meeting each other for the first time. The slow-motion footage is set to a sad violin soundtrack, which triggers an instant lump in Amy’s throat. They show Jackie hosing down her baby doll, while pulling a middle finger at the camera. Gemma screaming at Hattie working out in the garden. Hattie and Amy taking deep breaths in the dining room. Amy and Jackie falling off the coffee table; Lauren quitting the show; Kathy crying with her baby; Gemma announcing her pregnancy; Jackie’s contagious giggle sparking ten minutes of hysterical laugher at the tea party.

  And then her farewell, followed by a poignant moment between Flick and Amy when it hits them that they’re the last to leave. Their embrace at the front door, tears streaming down their cheeks.

  The footage is cut and the audience are left in silence.

&
nbsp; ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ says Adam with a slowed, lowered voice. ‘The time has come.

  ‘The public have decided and the votes have been counted and verified,’ Adam shouts.

  A countdown appears on the screen, which lights up the chairs.

  5 …

  ‘I can confirm that I have been given the green light to go ahead and tell you what we’ve all been dying to know.’

  3 …

  ‘The Keeper from The Shelf, for the first time ever, is …’

  1 …

  Fireworks explode across the screen and light up the sky.

  The crowd on screen look like they’re moving in slow motion. Signs fly into the air above them like mortarboards at a graduation ceremony. Amy lowers her head to look at the audience in front of her and braces herself for the rush of people racing towards the stage.

  Epilogue

  The only way this view could be more perfect is if Leonardo DiCaprio was sitting in front of me, thinks Amy, as she sinks her toes deeper into the hot, silky sand.

  But then again, he would be blocking the sunset over the sparkling water of Buffalo Bay. And she’d have to shave her legs.

  Everything in Koh Phayam makes Amy feel like she’s permanently drifting in a flotation tank. The still air is the perfect temperature, not too hot and never too cold. It wraps around her like soft cotton wool from the moment she wakes up, and follows her as she glides from day to night.

  She has settled into a routine that satisfies her needs for both peace and purpose. She starts every day with a slow wander through the buzzing atmosphere of the morning market, where she buys her breakfast smoothie. With banana, honey, almond milk and lashings of peanut butter, it’s really just a milkshake in disguise. But she gets them to throw in a sprinkling of kale to make herself feel as virtuous as the health bloggers and Instagram influencers that she’s met here, who have made the island their home. The market was recommended to her by Jane, of all people. Jane now messages Amy weekly, wondering when she’s getting back so she can throw her a Welcome Home party with some eligible bachelors from Pete’s work. But Amy doesn’t have the answer to that. Her ticket was one-way, and she has no intention of returning any time soon.